


Compliance

by alexcalibur



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Acephobia, Angst, Blackmail, Date Rape, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Do Not Archive (The Magnus Archives), Hurt No Comfort, Internalized Acephobia, Kidnapping, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Mind Rape, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trans Character, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Transphobia, in fic occurrences are the rest, tags that occur in the past include the date rape the kidnapping the acephobia and the transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:49:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27695831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexcalibur/pseuds/alexcalibur
Summary: Jon believes Elias is keeping secrets from the archival staff and not letting on as much as he knows. He tries sneaking into Elias' office but Elias is wise to his plans and not keen on letting Jon derail his own plans. This takes place sometime in season 3 after Jon was kidnapped by Nikola and before the unknowing.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	Compliance

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't really what I planned on writing this evening but uhhhh [shrugging emoji]. Mind the tags and please only read if you're over 18!

Elias’ fingers curled around Jon’s shoulder. A shiver ran down Jon’s spine and he froze, one foot in Elias’ office and the other still in the hallway.  
  
Jon felt his cheeks reddening as he turned his head to meet Elias’ gaze.  
  
“Elias! I-” Jon stammered. “I - I apologize, I didn’t know if you were in here. I knocked-”  
  
“Yes you did, didn’t you? And despite my lack of response, you thought you would let yourself in?” Elias cocked his head at Jon and his eyes narrowed for a half a second, but the expression was quickly replaced with a wide smile. Jon felt a chill run through his mind.  
  
“Let’s have a chat, why don’t we?”  
  
He pushed Jon into his office, releasing his vice-like grip. Jon stumbled forward, barely remembering to use his legs to stop himself from falling into the room. He righted himself with a huff and reflexively reached up to straighten his tie.  
  
“I – I just wanted to follow up with you about a statement…” Jon trailed off as he felt Elias’ fingers run down his back. His blood turned cold. The room around him turned dark and static-like at the edges, though his eyes widened. For a moment all that he could process was the feeling of cool, hard fingers running down his spine, bumping over vertebra after vertebra. They so were cold even through his shirt. For a moment he could’ve sworn Elias’ fingers were cool enough to be the lifeless, loveless plastic of that damned mannequin. The fingers lingered for just a moment too long at the small of Jon’s back before Elias withdrew his hand. Jon didn’t realize he had been holding his breath until he let out a gasp. His knees began to buckle and the next thing he knew a chair was being slid beneath him.  
  
His vision slowly faded back in as he heard the clicking of Elias’ shoes against the hardwood floor for one – two – three taps. The clink-chk of a door being closed and locked. Tap – tap – tap – tap – tap. The scrape of a chair against the floor. As the sounds subsided Jon realized he was holding his head in his hands, and staring down at the polished cherry desk beneath him. Lifting his head he saw that Elias now sat behind the desk. His head may have still been fuzzy but Jon almost thought he saw a smile quirk at the corner of Elias’ mouth.  
  
“Are you quite alright Jon?”  
  
“Yes I am, I apologize for the unprofessionalism…” Jon rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know what came over me, I- I’m fine.”  
  
Elias smiled and tilted his head. “Quite glad to hear it. Then perhaps you could explain to me then why you were sneaking into my office?” He leaned forward and rested his chin on his hand.  
  
Jon sputtered indignantly. “I was not sneaking, I was simply checking whether you were here so that I could ask-”  
  
Jon was cut short as Elias whipped his hand out and grabbed Jon’s chin. He leaned in close beside Jon, and Jon could feel the moist heat from his breath as he spoke.  
  
“Checking at the time when you _know_ I am off on my lunch break every day? I know you’ve been watching me, you’re not the only one who does.”  
  
Jon felt as though his body had been turned to lead. Fear paralyzed him, and he didn’t think he could move a muscle if he tried. Elias shifted his grip so that his nails dug into Jon’s face.  
  
“So I’ll ask you again: _why_ were you sneaking into my office, archivist?”  
  
Jon felt his mouth open despite himself. He _knew_ he didn’t want to tell Elias anything but he couldn’t stop himself as the words spilled from his mouth.  
  
“I suspected that you were hiding important statements and I wanted to find them,” he said. _Why did he say that?_ He felt a hot wave of shame wash over his body. He yanked his head away from Elias’ grip with a grimace, and felt the sharp nails leave trails across his face.  
  
“Is that what you wanted to hear?” he spat. “I don’t trust you. Is that really any surprise?”  
  
Elias closed his eyes and shook his head. “Tut tut archivist, this really won’t do. Even if I were keeping statements from you, don’t you think I’d have my reasons for doing so?”  
  
Elias' eyes shot open. His icy gaze pierced through Jon, and Jon couldn’t help but feel like every inch of him was being observed, analyzed, and judged. Suddenly, Jon remembered a stack of files – no, remember was the wrong word. He had never seen them before, he was sure of it, but he was equally certain that the pile existed and resided within a locked drawer in Elias’ desk. He opened his mouth to speak, but then another vision hit him. A vision of pale hands opening a file, flipping through pages, settling on one. Jon’s own face stared back at him from the page. He was gagged and bound in a dark warehouse, a blurry white figure standing behind him. Jon’s stomach dropped. How had Elias gotten such an image from when he’d been kidnapped? The pale hands turned the page and revealed another photo. Jon was much younger in this one, his hair longer and face rounder, and he sat in an embrace snuggled next to Georgie. Was the whole file about him? Jon jumped up from the chair and gripped the edge of Elias’ desk.  
  
“What are you trying to do here?” he knew that an edge of panic was obvious in his voice. Elias sat back in his chair and smiled languidly.  
  
“I’m showing you what you came for. The oh-so-secret files that mean old Elias is keeping hidden from you. Do you not like what you’re seeing?” an expression of feigned concern settled across his face.  
  
“Of course not! What-” Jon’s face twisted as he tried to calm himself. “What do you want?”  
  
“It’s quite simple. You are going to continue working at the pace I have prescribed for you, or some of these… personal images may find their way to your friends’ desks. Oops! Silly me, simple file mix up!”  
  
Jon felt his face reddening as anger and unease swirled within him.  
  
“You can’t- how are we supposed to prevent any of the rituals if we don’t even-”  
  
“I have given you enough information for you to do your job, archivist. You will need to trust me on this.” Elias’ voice was sharp as it cut through Jon’s. “Of course, I’m nothing if not an accommodating teacher. If you need further clarification…”  
  
Jon reeled forward as he was hit with another thought that was not his own. But this one he remembered. He saw his grandmother standing above him, gesticulating sharply with hands full of the clumps of hair Jon had discretely – or so he’d thought – thrown in the trash. The vision shifted to a dark, sketchy bar. He saw himself leave the bar holding hands with a handsome man, saw the man push him up against an alley wall, and saw himself push the man back as he stammered explanations. He saw the man’s expression turn from confusion to anger, and saw this other Jon shrinking in on himself, eventually to limp home with a black eye and a bruised ego. The vision switched one more time, and this time he saw himself with the first man he'd loved, who’d accepted him for _him_ , as he was. He saw himself in bed under this man, and seeing it from outside his body was even worse. He could see the pain in his face as the man penetrated him, and saw the discomfort grow and grow as the man gripped him, as he realized how wrong the whole thing felt, the bone-deep repulsion he felt despite his love towards this man. He watched himself lay there, numb to the world, and forcing himself to pretend he'd enjoyed it. He saw the man pass him an aspirin before he slept. Then – wait this was new – the man watched the time on his phone for a few minutes, poked at Jon’s face experimentally, then climbed back on top of Jon. He pulled Jon’s trousers down, and-  
  
Suddenly Jon was retching. He couldn’t get these thoughts out of his head but his body couldn’t keep everything in. He gripped the edges of Elias’ desk and leaned down to vomit onto his own shoes. His whole body shook, snot ran from his nose, and tears streamed from his eyes.  
  
Tap – tap – tap – tap.  
  
“Not feeling too good are we?”  
  
Jon couldn’t muster the energy to face Elias. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on breathing, but his breath caught in his throat with each inhalation.  
  
He felt a bit of fabric on his cheek and tensed up. He opened his eyes to see Elias’ face next to his. Elias pulled the fabric away from his face and Jon saw that it was simply a handkerchief. Upon seeing the realization on his face, Elias placed it back on his face and began wiping the tears and bile away. When he finished, he dropped the handkerchief and brought his hand up to Jon’s cheek slowly, as though he were approaching an injured animal. When he touched Jon’s face, Jon was surprised to find that his hand was warm. Against his better judgment Jon leaned his head against it.  
  
“There we are, that’s alright archivist. We all have our moments.” Elias’ voice was soft and smooth. Had it always been this soothing?  
  
“Have we learned our lesson now? Are you going to be snooping in my office again?”  
  
Jon swallowed. “I won’t… I- I’ll trust you from now on Elias.”  
  
“There we are, I knew I had chosen a smart archivist.”  
  
Jon only wanted to continue to hear these praises and reassurances. He felt a wave of affection flow through himself, and though he knew it wasn’t his own it was better than the other emotions currently available to him. He reached his hand up to grasp Elias’, and took a deep shaky breath in. He could be good for Elias. He could be good and avoid further pain. He could be good.


End file.
